Is it Worth it?
by Azrael Adross
Summary: Its a little thing I cooked up in one day.
1. Intro

Being something your not

Introduction.

This is my first time trying out a Tekken fanfic although the idea only occurred to me in one day. The story was out of my need and patriotism for my Country, the Philippines. I wanted an original storyline about a Filipino Tekken fighter in the hopes that once this fiction gains popularity the character I created will be used by Tekken. Another reason is the fact that the style I'm using right now is pretty much a style I'm experimenting with and practicing. The storyline however is something you the reader will have to find out on your own. The timeline takes place during Tekken 5 and 6. Only some Tekken characters except Murdok take a serious plotbending role in my fiction. I mean plotbending which means a major bump with the original storyline. Although the reaction towards self-made characters may not be welcoming just forget the fact that I made the character and am using some else's setting to tell the story just read and try to see something other than fiction. Recognize something other than some kind of conspiracy or Devil-Gene quest. Think of this as my way of bending reality, and being something I'm not. Yes, familiar isn't it, but isn't that the reason why you are even here. To discover and feel something which isn't there. Why we place countless hours in front of a fantasy so far-fetched we love it. I'm just a writer to entertain, base your judgment on that, not on my using other people's work. That is why this is and always will be nothing more than a fanfic.

The Character

The kid's name is Manuel Amorsolo. He uses a fighting style based on Krav Maga, Keyce Fighting Method, and Parkour. For his story just read on.

The Fiction.

Think of this as an entire season of your usual anime flick with big boobies and even bigger eyes. Now the season will come in chapters as episodes. Each episode has one serial story. That's how I'll be telling it, now let me just tell it.

Legal Disclaimer

I do not own any of the Namco related or other stuff excludingManuel Amorsolo.

If you'll be flaming me I'de be more than happy to accept your comments at I'm not scared of giving it away cuz it's a free e-mail service. Oh by the way updates whenever I feel like it which means it would be a good update cuz I don't do something good without being very inspired at it.

Check me out at 


	2. Episode I

Hi the name's Manuel. You probably don't even know me and shouldn't care what I have to say but please, this is something I really need to yank off my shoulders. I'm half past thirty now but my story starts way before thirty, about half my age now. Pretty original right, a fifteen year old youngster looking for adventure, well actually not looking but hell I did find it. When I found it bashed me into a damn pulp of flesh and blood, fast draining blood. That "it" was Marduk, Craig Marduk. The bastard almost crippled me. Wait, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself now, please forgive me. Now do you wish to know my story? It starts at the early stages of the fifth Iron fist tournament, back then I didn't join the tournament but the events after my incident lead me to join it, as a puppet and just to cancel out confusion I believe I only entered during the 8th tournament. Intrigued? Good, that means you'll listen. Now keep your ears open, the story, my story starts now.

My real name is Manuel Ramon D. Amorsolo, but you can just call me Manuel, I hate being called Manny. I was on a vacation to Japan thanks to some kind of field trip my parent let me join. The field trip was nice, and pretty much I enjoyed it halfway to its end. The entire trip took a month by the way just to fill you in. I think though that the real start to this story was three weeks before the end of the school year. I was enrolled to a private school called R. Hale Institute of Higher Minds. It was pretty nice for the sense of it purpose. In my hometown of Iloilo the place was pretty protected, it was co-ed and things were peaceful. Hell, the standard went down though, when the tuition went down of course. That was the same time I was enrolled to it as a sophomore, and the school was in truth a hell filled with fraternities, gangs, and rich snobs. In my country fraternity doesn't mean party, just another pseudonym for gang. The Philippines, such a beautiful place indeed.

Anyway the story started when I was at home logged on into the internet. It was way past midnight and was escaping a slight peep at those Play-By-Post RPG sites I joined. It was the last logging in I'd ever have cause after that studying hard still exists even in the environment I study in. RPG sites, hm, I laugh to think now as the reason why I even joined the sites. Trying to escape reality is a drug you can't escape when reality bites as hard as rock. Even hell was wading the flows of reality, wading through and through the truth of mankind. I could still remember what role I escaped to every night, a hardened street fighter named Clavell. Chuckle, fuck, I wanted to be a goddamned street fighter who knew some fake ass lame shit called Sabat. Now I could only laugh at my fucking retarded wannabe dreams. Escape to something cooler when the realities of life bite hard on your soul and drain all hope of a good life. Wishing to something you know you'll never be, then fuck fate, look at me now goddamn it, hahaha. Live you dreams, enact your wishes, fuck, fuck.

Sorry, back to the plot. I was there typing away and every little while straying to some porn sites when I logged on to a site called Gangworld. That was the site I was a Streetfighter in, pretty good to might I add. 150 wins, 6 draws, and 1 loss is pretty good, hehe. Being French has never been that powerful. That was when I looked at the Rants threads, the place where you can hold topics about something outside the game. Back then I held a pretty narrow mind thanks to Religion class and peer pressure. I never resented Religion but heck; I can live without fucking peer pressure those motherfucking weak ass bitches bitchen about what was now and then. How to be cool and how to treat those cooler than you. Now when I was going through the topics I was able to see a reply to my earlier post that read like this:

Hitman X (My username chuckle I was really pathetic): I have nothing about being gay but heck, gay sex is gross to the hardest point of natural law. It's a disorder even though I regret to say that I do like lesbians. In other words I think man to man sex is just wrong and truth be told in my country the third gender is often scorned and treated like shit. I mean even I try at times to stand up against teasing and bullying those perceived to be gay but heck it ain't just worth. I just try to keep their attention off my shoulders and watch out for my crew (Crew, ha ha ha, feeling a bit ghetto pathetic here). Besides, I ain't that strong a person.

I thought the reply was a safe way to go but the other guy behind the screen still got a lot angrier. He still probably took hurt because either he was gay, or had a close friend that was gay, back then I thought he was gay if he was a close friend of a fag. Yes that's right, I was so red neck then I call them fags. Pathetic life was mine to lead back then if I stuck to my views and narrow conceptions, but what the guy replied with was a turning point of my life.

Mangler: There are several points behind your message that is wrong other than being a complete asshole. First off, yes you are a redneck and I do believe that is an insult regarding you. The second is the fact that you call this a disorder and man to man sex is gross. Now when love between to people is gross and disordered then I believe you are the retarded one. The third is regarding lesbians now that just show you have no respect for women. You just see them as things of pleasure. The last is this. Yes you are not a strong person. And by the way, the next time you are being beaten half to death I wish every body just acts like you and watch. Crew my ass you're just another rapper and gangster wannabe.

As fate would have it I had no answer, no reply. I began to question everything I stand for right then and there. It took a full hour of deep thought. I kept thinking about being gay as really disordered and how I feel towards women. I realized then how weak assed I really was, a pathetic loser who doesn't give a damn about others. The real deal though was the defending others bit. This really pained me, and was the same reason I got into a lot of messes and a lot more plot bends. Fuck, life sucked and it just turned me into a moping self deprecating loser. Did I really wanna just watch when someone was getting killed, even though I just wrote about teasing this guy went life facts or something. Who ever this guy was I both hate him, and love him. Hate him cause I am what I am now, love him cause I'm no longer a complete loser. Note the word complete chuckles.

Now as it so happened when I was in Japan I got separated from my group. We were in Tokyo enjoying the sites, indulging in teenage desires of Manga, sex, drugs, and rock. Yeah sure I wasn't in the cool enough crowds to indulge in all of them except the Manga part but heck I was satisfied. The group I was with really didn't care much to my disappearance so one of 500 students sent to Japan is a meek number to notice, especially when we all relied at cell phones at that time, even now we still do. That was the same time the fifth Iron fist Tournament was going on. I wasn't so interested in it though even though I fooled my self to be a fan of cage fighting, street fighting, and mixed martial arts combat. Pathetic in know. Even my outfit was a cry sign of wannabe. I mean denim jacket over a black sleeveless shirt with a choker around my neck. Couple this with boots and denim pants plus a black backpack heck it cried out loud, "Loser right here". I mean the black denim baseball cap supposedly to instill mystery was pathetic too, especially the wooden bracelet. Rocker my ass that was just pitiful. Back then I even thought girls noticed you by acting all cool and not notice them but heck, I was satisfied.

I was passing though a dark alleyway with little traffic of both people and cars when it began to rain hard. I was quick to find shelter away from all the comics I had bought in my pack, I laugh now cause it had hentai in it, yup a typical modern teenage geek. That was when I noticed someone being pulverized behind me in the darker part of the alley. When I turned to look all I saw was a bald, large, and powerful man killing someone with his bare hands. I couldn't see who it was though cause of the darkness. I peered for a clearer sight but then I realized the man he was killing was a transvestite prostitute. The accent and strained tone was a big give away and the fact that the guy wore a mini-skirt and tank top with fake boobs didn't help either. This was where the heart rending and oh so cliché choice was made. This also included the flashback of my thoughts when I was surfing the goddamn net. To make the scene a bit saucier I'll dramatize it a bit.

All I could see was rain, rain, and even more rain as I passed the dark alley. I was on my way to the hotel when the noise of a man being killed by bare hands reached my form. I had taken shelter from the rain for a brief second under a structure's extra roof when I turned to see a large bald man darkened by the rain and night. Even without the rain though it seemed his complexion was still dark. He was pounding to bits a man dressed in the threads of a hooker, a female hooker at that. The guy screamed more like a woman than a man when he could gasp that much. The man was gay, obvious to the bone as it was. I was drawn in by the sight and turmoil within me as I remembered convicting words from the past. Am I going to just stand here? To me there are three moral obstacles to pass. _Oh shit_, I began to think, _this fucker tried to pick up the wrong guy. Probably his fault even for trying to come on a straight guy but heck a reprimand would suffice but this. I can almost see his heart beating for crying out loud. Oh fuck I'm gonna do something stupid aren't I? Yeah sure the choice is made I'll help the guy even though he's gay because he's human but heck just because he's human doesn't mean I have to go hero all the sudden. I mean look at that fucker, if I'm gonna try and save this fool's life it has to be well planned with both of us getting out alive, good thing I'm a smart kid. Smart my ass, if only I remained a narrow minded fool._

That was what I thought at the time. The plan was to distract him away from his victim. I would provoke him enough to chase me and being that he was pretty humungous I underestimated him by his speed. I thought I could outrun him easy while giving the guy a chance to rest out for anyone to find and help or even run away if possible. So I thought the plan was perfect. I scoured the ground amidst the rain quickly for anything. I found a can full of expired sardines so I thought, _what the heck!_ I threw it aiming for the guy's big and bald head, as luck would have it I didn't miss. Now this guy as you should know is Marduk, the asshole was of towering height and had big ass and hard ass muscles. He was as strong as a herd of bulls and probably was just as merciless, which he was. He was slow and cinematic when he turned to face me. That was when I yelled at the top of my voice, "Hey asshole, why don'tcha try someone your own size biatch!" I waited for him to move before I skipped tail and ran. It took a brief second for me to turn to see if he was coming after me when instead I saw a flying trash compacter going straight at me. That same compactor was right next to where he was by the way.

The flying metal object of death crushed me under the force that threw it. It felt worse than a truck and I haven't even been hit by a truck. The thing crushed me and sent us both skidding into the road. The pavement grazed my face and clothes while the bag I had cushioned it somewhat like by an inch. I was groaning and grunting in pain and almost passed out when I felt a large and cruel hand grab my shin and yank me out under the compactor. I was raised high up the air upside down. The bald guy just looked at me like the real killer he was, no emotion. I was scared to rousing at the time, I couldn't pass out when I wished I would, I even tried but no, the pain he then dealt was just right enough. He threw hard back into the alley, again I skidded on the pavement grazing my face and tearing the front of my clothes and my hat was long gone. I halted just about a foot away from the guy he was beating earlier. That was when I had the nerve and stupidity to haul my breath into one measly declaration, "Run." The guy was lucky that I was there. It seemed he wasn't banged up to the core yet so he still had the breath to say thank you in Japanese and limp away in panic. At that moment I wished Marduk would change back his attention on the transvestite but know, I was the newbie now, the fresh meat and he was gonna finish it, slowly.

I still fucking have the scars to prove every fucking bit of what he did to me! Yeah sure they don't show on my body, that's another story you will know later, but heck the small flash backs still haunt my nightmares both day and night. No amount of power or strength would I want for a price like that, to bad I took it anyway. He was having his way with me, like a tiger lounging away with a pig. He kept slamming me around and pounded my chest to pulp. I couldn't breathe by the time my tragedy took five minutes, now all I had to do was wait for four more and then it would all be over. I could still feel till then though so he kept going anyway. He bashed my head in, mopped my face on the pavement, mopped my whole body on the pavement, and crushed me again under the compactor. It's a miracle that in ten minutes of such a hell I was still alive. By the end of that same ten minutes I was finally left to die. That was when I began to panic and again, this did no good on the fact that my lungs were crushed. He just walked away while I was begging for mercy to the highest power on in infinity, God. I was and still am a Catholic so please, I do believe in God.

_Fuck! Now all I see is black. My eyes are either gone or closed shut from the blood from my wounds. My head must be cracked open right now, even lacerated to the point of fatality. My muscles burn as if acid has replaced the rain about me. I gasp for air yet my lungs could only bleed as they were crushed multiple times. I can even hear my fucking heart right now, fuck! Shit! It's not that I can hear it, I can fucking feel it. I can feel every strained pump draining me instead of healing me. I can feel the blood clot about my body and even within. I can't fucking see or hear anything now, that's just fucking great. Oh fuck no! Oh God no! I tried to be a hero, a fucking hero and now look at me. I'm fucking dying. That's just rich, I die in a blaze yet life ain't got the similar fortune. Funny, that is so fucking funny. I can even feel the cold seeping in like ice on anything. The greens meadows would now pass and I would enter the veils of, fuck! I'm dishing out metaphors I can't even understand, fucking understand. Fuck I am fucking dying. Oh God no, please don't let this happen to me._

_I have turned down the prejudice and doubt filling my soul for at least a bit! One fucking bit! If I did this for another won't someone please come to my aid? To my fucking aid? What is this? What the fuck is this? I go good while bad goes free. I die while cowards live on. I should have stayed a fucking narrow minded fuck up! At least I was a coward, a fucking living coward. A living coward! That's all life gets to be safe about! Heroism is not fucking worth it? Even now I can read the truth, I die while you watch. Am I even eligible for martyrdom? Hah, I seriously doubt it. Fucking retarded, I'm so fucking retarded. Heroes only belong in wars or stories. Journalists end up dead and now I can go through it to. I fucking hate it. What ideal is there anyway hah? Fuck the ideals! Fuck the fucking ideals! Oh great first the complete darkness now the sudden burst of light._

_Oh shit! I am gonna die aren't I? I can feel people passing yet no comes. I guess I'm the only fool. I guess I should be thankful now and confess my… ah shit! Who the fuck am I kidding? Can't you at least send a hero for me, please? Please, I can almost see now. Please, I'm not ready yet. I can feel it fading now, the pain. This means I am dying bit by bit, more and more. I can feel it. I can feel myself slipping away. I guess I am still a fool. I don't care whether this is right or wrong, but at least I believe in it. I beg of you now Lord, forgive me and all my sins. Things like this happen for a reason only though of by you, I believe this now cuz there's not much left to go on anymore. In the end you are the end. I just hope it's a good end. I just hope purgatory would only be short. Save me, save me from the pains of hell and the loss of Heaven. I tried being a hero and trust me, I won't change my mind. It's not worth it, it's not worth this. Please forgive me anyway, cuz I am still no hero. Oh great first dark, then light, then the coming darkness again. I can feel it now, my final hours; I guess nobody cares that a kid lies dying underneath a very large trash compactor. Life sucks, but at least there's hope, whether it's true or not. It's called the end, he is called God. From all the evil that surrounds me defend me, when the call of death arrives, bid me follow you and I will pray to you my God, forever._

Yes, you assume correctly. I am a fervent catholic despite the fact that I can curse like any fucker out there. I was truly dying, yet for some perverted reason I did live. This was something kept as a secret from me for a few years before they revealed it to me. First the purpose was of good, yet soon the true covers were lifted. I would tell it to you soon but for now we continue. At first all I could see was a final darkness. I thought I was dead and purgatory had taken me. I thought it was so because I didn't feel a kind of loss or decapitating pain, and no flames of punishment grilled me. I knew it as so because despite the darkness and the finality of the feeling I kept seeing visions. They seemed like flashing paces of memory. It felt horrible. I could remember only brief cuts but when I was living it, I was actually reliving the memories, the past, of dead warriors. I saw nothing but the turning of good to bad. Blood and death littered my sight, and nothing, no amount of rejection kept it away. I knew I wasn't in heaven, and I didn't care why. All I cared about was the fact that it didn't feel like hell. I fear hell like hell itself. Because hell is hell, nothing is as worse as HELL.

I was then beginning to take a bit more of a roused my mind. The more I took control over my mind the more flashes of these memories did I lose. I didn't care and welcomed loss openly. It was so until I totally lost all my recollections from the day I was brutally harmed, to the very day I finally awoke. I awoke, at the third day of my unconscious spell. I was puzzled at first as darkness still took over my sight. There and then I felt I was alive, I felt that my mind was alive. That was also when I heard the voices, two voices. One female, the other male, I felt them and heard them as unclear mumblings at first. Then my senses began to inch their way to normality. This spurned me to strain my eyes open. I had no recollection of my unconscious state, thus I thought it was Heaven. All I saw at first was white, a blurred version of white. Two forms began to take corporal substance and again the vision was still blurred. The clarity only came in slow and lingering paces. The duo took no notice for my rousing and I was determined to take initiative. I began to rise. I grunted and moaned from the discomfort driving their way into my now living again body.

When the visions cleared, I was disappointed. Then again, that disappointment was mended, for I was relieved with one simple fact, I was alive. "Where am I?" where the first words to come from my mouth. I spoke in my native Hiligaynon since I was born and raised in Iloilo, Philippines. Proud to be Pinoy my ass. I was dizzy and the words were clear enough for anyone to understand despite it. The duo didn't understand one bit of it though so I tried again in English. This time one of then answered, while the other scampered. A German man of about thirty or more sporting military cut blonde hair answered my question while a nurse came to comfort me. She was just actually trying to put me back to sleep but I had wanted none of it. "In a Hospital in the middle of Tokyo, you've been here for about three days," he answered. I kept rejecting the nurse's garbled plea of broken English with a stern and resounding no. I wanted answers, and I wanted them bad. She saw the futility in pressing on me though so she just helped me to better set my self upon the technical bed.

The German was in casual clothing. He wore light colors and wasn't formal although he wore a polo shirt. "Three days, quite enough to cause my teachers a good deal of alarm. When did they know I was missing, cuz I presume I was?" I spoke in fluent English now, no native accent stained it. "Yes, you were noted as missing. Your teachers and your mother were frantically searching the parts of Tokyo you were assumed to have walked and might have only lost your way. I was the only one to find you a day after you were almost dead from beating. You were a victim of gang violence; this was probably a very drunk gang. They had no restraint actually, they even used chains from the marks on your neck I found," the German answered sincerely, not hinting any sign of deceit. He strolled a bit nearer to me as the nurse left after realizing that I was fine. I didn't care how he looked enough to know that he was German. He had a hint of accent upon his English too.

"So, when I was found how did they react, by the way you're German right?" I asked. "Actually I'm half Jewish. As for your teachers they were crazy enough to cancel your field trip until you were reported in," I had no recollection of the truth so I stuck to what he said, "Aside from the usual protocol not much else happened."

"Yeah, there was, I almost got myself killed over nothing,"

"You saved someone, I wouldn't call that nothing,"

"I thought I could but only took his place. I should have been in my hotel room, sound asleep, not unconscious out in the cold,"

"I saved you from certain death so I wouldn't call it unrewarding,"

"It was still not worth even shit German so fuck off. Why are you even here anyway?"

"I have a name its Diedrich, so use it. I would also appreciate it if you refrain from any profanity when speaking with me. I'm here because I wanted to check on my ward,"

"Your fucking ward? What the fuck do you mean by that German?"

"Ungrateful cretin, have you no sense of respect,"

"Why what are you gonna do about it,"

"First I'll answer your question. You are my ward because I had saved your life. As if I am your bodyguard,"

"What's the fucking second German, I fucking dare yah," I wasn't aware of the change in my person then. Before the transition I was a mild mannered person seldom to engage in any quarrel.

"The fucking second my dear Manuel," my German friend started, "is you losing the money, the insurance paying for your hospital bills."

"Oh yeah, then where the fuck is my mother anyway?" I continued my vulgar words at high hopes of pissing him off. He frowned fiercely and looked me in the eye as though he was about to kill me. Vaguely enough those eyes were familiar, yet my mind could not remember what, subconsciously those eyes became mine too, an effect from my transition. "Your disrespect for your savior is slowly catching at my nerves. Do not dare continue lest I change my mind cretin," he paced a little closer to me now, and I was as aggressive. I sprung to full sitting position and took the effects of a pouncing predator, "Oh yeah what you gonna do bout it German. Your English is nice yet your accent is still very obvious." "For one thing I can refund my payment of your care, by now you should know your answer to your last question," he snapped with an angry hiss. "Like I fucking care bitch," was all that I could intelligently mutter within a brief expanse of time, fitting for one such as me.

I was aggressive, I was too aggressive and I didn't feel the change in my character. It felt as though something in me was taking over what was there before. I was still in control, yet my demeanor is another thing, such as my calm personality. It seems that after my transition, I was actually changing from the inside out. I didn't care how or why even if I knew that something happened, point being that even before the transition I was much a loner who didn't give a fuck about anything other than my own goals. I am still like that right now though. It's just that sometimes the boy-scout in me seems to surface. "Your insolence is not acceptable. I thought you were a good man but know I was wrong. My efforts have been for naught," Diedrich was disappointed as he turned and left with a scowl. "For naught my ass," I smirked behind him. I ridiculed his chosen speech as it was pissing me off greatly. That was the first time I met Diedrich, the guy that had saved me from certain death and gave me a new life. So new I wish I was dead instead of alive, but that realization comes later. I guess I am getting ahead of myself again, I apologize.

When he had mentioned my mother, I was even more pissed off. I didn't despise my mother yet she was someone I could never handle. My father is something I don't even know since he spends most of his time working abroad. With no male example to follow all I saw since first grade was my mother, twenty four fucking seven. My older brother didn't even help. He was working for my mother's brother, Enrique Diaz, the Diaz family is sort of a crime dynasty with my grandfather and his children taking turns on my hometown municipality as city mayors I didn't fucking care what they did for a living but the name Amorsolo has thankfully blotted out the D. before it into speculation only. Carrying the name Diaz around is the same as carrying a large stereotypical stigma. Diaz means bad, anything else is good. I didn't want to carry around the unwanted burden of fear, so that's why I always ended up the doormat in school. Why am I even telling you this, because there's going to be a change soon, a very great change.

The second time I saw that German guy again at the airport, on my way back home. It was under the very forceful and stern command of my mother, I still can't believe why I ended up with her. I can't even believe my dad married her, but then again he spends most of his time in Saudi, pretty pitiful eh? Diedrich was walking off in a more formal and smart looking business suit when I saw him. It was probably German made and hand tailored even. He was holding a briefcase in one hand and a coat on the other. He was the first to probably notice me though since he sat right next to me when I noticed his fucking blonde hair. "You fucking stalking me German, I should warn you, I despise pedophiles," I timed my looking at him with my last word. "He was merely content to shrug that comment off calmly and said, "I came here when I saw you, I had thought your anger had receded at least a bit. It seems you are merely angry always." "Not really German," I tried to defend my good side, if I believed I had good side then, "I'm just irritated with you choice of words. You set yourself so high and mighty I could just topple you off the Empire State Building right now, I despise royals, so please try to understand," I explained it thoroughly, yes I did, especially British ones. Power and glory to the people! "Your choice of words save the vulgarity is quite equal to mine own. Why do you perceive me to be as you think me to be?" He asked intently and eagerly, still looking forward never looking straight at me. I soon carried that demeanor too, I don't know why but it felt so right for me to seem so tough when I thought I wasn't.

"Because," I started off and drifted on for at least a few breaths, I was caught there. "Your silence is answer enough. Very well I will shift our topic," he didn't snicker but I could sense his ridicules a mile away. I was still ignorant but already then and there a slight change had taken my traits. I still didn't notice the change and the visions I had while unconscious didn't return yet. "What topic is there to talk about, Diedrich? Our conversation was done already, about a couple of days ago," I didn't fucking know what he wanted, and frankly I am intrigued but that intrigue is drowned out by the creeping feeling I couldn't describe. "No it is not done, but first can I at least know you name?" he asked, still that calm and contained form of his was maintained. "Do I trust you?" I countered. "I guess you should if you are to continue," he was good.

"Continue at what?"

"Being a hero, you tried it once and you succeeded, you saved a life,"

"And ended mine,"

"The word there is could've, not did, your alive now and thus you can live one driven by the same ideal,"

"Ideals get the press killed, only soldiers have it easy, soldiers of the streets have it worse,"

"But you are different; you were driven against your own prejudice for a choice much larger and greater than what you are given in life,"

"And look where it has brought me, nothing has been gained,"

"Your honor for one, your soul on the other. Besides, we don't do it for anything else but saving lives,"

"We, I have yet accept the term hero upon my name. I despise it, and honor brings nothing but peril these days, that is why chivalry is dead,"

"But it could live on with you,"

"At what cost, my life, devotion? You're barking up the wrong tree, Diedrich,"

"But if you do change your mind I can help, teach you, and support you. All you'll need is training, I can give you that, but what you do with it is still yours to control so please, think about," this was his final declaration as he handed me his calling card. I didn't see what good it would do me though so I took it anyway, knowing it well enough that this is the last time he would ever grace my sight. I was so wrong.


End file.
